Enemies Like Lovers
by Saren Kol
Summary: Do the job, no matter how long it takes or what you have to do, you always do the job. What happens when what you need to do, conflicts with what your heart wants? Can true love survive the worst kind of deception? AH/OOC/E&B/M for later chapters.
1. An invited enemy

**A/N: A new story that has been bouncing around in my head. I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Mesmerizeme is my seriously awesome beta, who without which, my stories would make your head spin in a very bad way. I totes love you bb!**

**Like all things Twilight, I do not own any of it. ): **

Dinner at the Crowley s house is not normally a huge affair, not like it is tonight; Tyler has finally gotten that promotion that he has been waiting for and the whole family has gotten together to celebrate. Tyler and his wife Lauren are the last to arrive and immediately head to the dining room, where they know that the family will be waiting.

Around the table sits Tyler's father Jonathan, a stern looking man whose entire demeanor leads one to assume that he has spent the better part of his life in the military, although he has never served. Next to him is Tyler's mother Margaret, a socialite who has seen better days but who refuses to admit that she is over thirty. To compensate for this, she wears clothing that is too tight and too revealing, making her actually look older than her 48 years; however, no one is brave enough to tell her this. Tyler's two brothers, Lee and Daniel, and their wives, Jamie and Sarah, sit at the long table as well. The men are gruff like their father, however, unlike Tyler's mother, the women are shy and tend to keep to themselves. Several of his father's colleagues have also joined them for dinner. This causes Margaret to break out the extra leafs for the dining table before they could all sit down.

Margaret stands and gives her son a big hug. "I'm so happy for you!" She squeals as she rocks him back and forth in her arms. Tyler pats his mother lightly on the back and gives her a kiss on the cheek before he pulls away. It does not go unnoticed by Tyler that once again, his mother has failed to even acknowledge his young wife.

"Mother." He chastises her softly as to not make a scene.

Margaret rolls her eyes, knowing exactly what he wants and not wanting to give it to him. However, he is her baby and she cannot stand to see him cross with her. "Hello, Lori," she says.

"It's Lauren, mother. You know this," he says, defending her.

"Lori, Lauren, is there a difference?" Margaret dismisses her son s statement as she returns to her seat. Tyler sighs in defeat and takes Lauren's chair, pulling it out for her. Lauren places a soft kiss on Tyler's cheek in thanks and takes her seat. The moment that Tyler sits down, the brothers immediately dig into the dishes, piling food onto their plates. The rest of the men similarly take food while the women grab small pieces from the few dishes within their reach. Tyler grabs what food he can for himself and his wife and sets the plates before them. She sends him a smile in silent thanks and they begin to eat.

Once the food has been appropriately devoured, Jamie and Sarah begin to clear off the dishes. Margaret sends a hard glance toward Lauren when she refuses to rise and assist, but Lauren stands her ground. She has told her mother-in-law many times that when in her own home, she will do those things, but she will not be ordered to do these things in someone else's. This argument has been a sore point in their relationship since Lauren first met Tyler at Starbucks two years ago.

When the table is cleared of dishes and everyone has returned, Jonathan clears his throat, bringing all eyes on him. "I'd like to propose a toast," he begins as he stands from his chair holding his wine glass in his hand. Everyone around the table stands as well and looks toward the eldest Crowley. "Today my son has become Heckler & Koch's head of military weapon development. Nothing could make me more proud than to know that my son is helping keep our soldiers safe out in the field." Jonathan raises his glass. "To Tyler."

The others around the table raise their glasses as well. "To Tyler," they respond.

Jonathan takes his seat and the rest of the table follows his lead. "So," Jonathan begins again. "When are the two of you going to finally going to make me a grandpa?" The smirk on his face is undeniable, even the warning glances from Margaret are not enough to put him off his question.

Tyler is visibly uncomfortable about the question being raised yet again. "When things slow down we will talk about children. We haven't even been married for a year dad!" Neither of Tyler's brothers hold any desire to have children so the duty of upholding the Crowley name falls to him.

"Trust me, son, it will come sooner than you think," the elder Crowley replies, and with that, the matter is dropped.

The conversations begin to lessen and eventually everyone rises to say their good nights and head off to bed, most of them are visiting from out of town and are staying at the house. Even though he does not let on, Jonathan's question has Tyler thinking; with the new promotion, he can finally afford to care for his wife and a child in the way that he really wants to.

"You know, I wouldn't be opposed to trying to make dad a grandpa." Tyler smirks at Lauren as they slide into bed together. Lauren hides a giggle behind her hand, causing Tyler to replay his choice of words in his head. "Ugh! Bringing up my dad while trying to seduce you is definitely not in my top ten brightest moments."

Lauren turns toward her husband and gives him a soft kiss on the lips. "No, it's not, but I won't hold it against you."

"Will you hold your body against me?" he asks, wagging his eyebrows.

"For as long as we both shall live," she tells him before pulling his lips to hers.

-E-L-L-

A simple bird chirp wakes Lauren from her slumber and she slowly untangles herself from Tyler's arms. Glancing at the clock, she sees that it is nearly three in the morning. The street light illuminates the room in a soft glow through the window. Using this to see, she finds her discarded clothing from earlier and dresses. She slips off her wedding band and places it on the side of the bed that she was just laying on. Taking a quick look to ensure that Tyler is still asleep, Lauren slips quietly out of the bedroom and slowly closes the door.

Making her way down the stairs, she enters the utility room toward the back of the house. She looks around quickly to make sure no one else is up before she closes the door and turns on the light. Grabbing a small bag from behind the washing machine, she pulls off the panel to the main breaker for the house and begins to place locks on each of the switches, preventing them from tripping. She then pulls a small box from the bag and connects it with small wires to the electrical outlet near the floor.

Satisfied with her work, she turns off the light and slips quietly out of the house. Walking across the street, she pulls out a small device, similar to a car remote, and presses the button. Without a sound, she turns and walks up the road. Before she is even to the end of the block, the quiet street is brought to life by a large explosion as angry flames of fire begin to engulf the Crowley house.

Refusing to look back, Lauren dials a number on a cheap disposable cell phone. No words are said when it is answered. Her only words before she hangs up are, "It's done."

-E-L-L-

The young woman formally known as Lauren Crowley enters suite 10 at a cheap motel near the airport. She moves quickly; no move or gesture made that does not have a purpose. Grabbing the metal trash can, she empties its contents on the floor on her way to the bathroom. She places the trashcan into the bathtub and climbs up on the toilet to disable the fire alarm. Once the battery has been removed from the alarm, she begins to empty her pockets into the trashcan, anything that can identify her as Lauren Crowley. Within moments, the contents have been set aflame and she watches as her Nevada driver's license melts into nothingness.

Satisfied with the destruction, she pulls out a box of hair dye and some hair shears. Cutting her hair by at least six inches, she begins to prepare the hair dye. The box says the color is dark auburn; it simply looks brown to her. Within less than an hour, she is ready to leave; the alarm re-enabled, her trash bagged up and ready to take. She leaves the key on the table and heads out the door.

It does not take her long to reach the airport and she quickly locates an area of rentable lockers. Moving to locker number 12, she enters the combination and opens the locker to reveal a black backpack. She opens the backpack and verifies the contents, identification, plane tickets, a single change of clothing and five thousand dollars in small bills.

Satisfied that everything is in order, she makes her way through customs and checks in for her flight. As she waits to board, her phone rings. She does not utter a word as she answers the call.

"You're clear." A gruff sounds through the phone before the line disconnects.

"Now boarding flight 395 to Rio Di Janeiro," a voice says over the intercom.

She smiles as she grabs her backpack and heads to the ramp to board the plane.

-E-L-L-

SUSPECTED ARMS DEALER BURNS TO DEATH IN HOME

The body of Jonathan Crowley was found among the charred remains of his Nevada home yesterday. The CIA released this morning that Crowley was the target of a four-year long investigation into his suspected illegal arms trade. Special Agent Ben Cheney, who headed up the investigative team reports that he is saddened that he will not have the opportunity to bring this criminal to justice in the proper way. The bodies of Crowley's entire family and many of his men were found in the house as well. Included in the bodies recovered were that of his son Tyler Crowley and wife Lauren, Tyler was recently named as the head of military weapon development for the artillery manufacturer Heckler & Koch. Representatives for Heckler & Koch could not be reached for comment on the possible connection between Tyler's promotion and the elder Crowley's alleged black market connections. Firefighters have determined that the fire was electrical in nature and most likely accidental, however, foul play has not been ruled out.

**A/N: So you may be a bit confused because the summary says E/B and here I am writing about Lauren. Please trust that it is E/B, you'll meet them soon.**

**My usual posting days are Saturdays and that will continue to be for this story as well.**

**Reviews are awesome and even get you a teaser to next week!**


	2. The Doctor and his Muse

**A/N: Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed!**

**Mesmerizeme is my totally amazing beta! Love ya bb!**

**Twilight is not mine, nor is the CIA. :(**

When a business or office has no name, the employees of said office find that their names disappear with it. Such are the employees of a small office space in downtown Seattle, Washington. An office space labeled "Central Infrastructure Authority" is actually a cover for a highly trained, and extremely secret, team of CIA agents. It is designed to take out the scum that the justice system just can't seem to pin down, or doesn't have the time to. To protect themselves, and their family, each member is known only by their first and last initials as well as a code name. This team is comprised of a team leader, Agent CC; a communications expert, Agent EP; Gadgets expert, Agent AB; interrogation specialist, JW; and three field agents, Agents BS, EM, and RH.

Agent EP, or The Musician as her fellow agents call her, is not normally the sort of person to rush down the corridor, pushing people out of her way. Then again, she does not normally have to deliver a message of such high importance. EP walks as fast as her legs can carry her without breaking into an all out run. Her shins are burning and her thighs are begging her to just run already and end the torture. EP has never been a big fan of speed walking, but she is beginning to have a new appreciation for the sport.

The door at the end of the hallway finally comes into contact with her outstretched hand and the door gives easily under her force. There, behind a simple stained oak desk, sits Agent CC; more commonly known as The Doctor, or Doc for short. Doc was putting away a large book filled with newspaper clippings showing the success of his team members. He smiled brightly as he acknowledged his guest.

"Hello Muse." He had long ago shortened her nickname as a form of familiarity between them, however, she allowed no one but him to use that particular version. "What can I do for you?"

Still a little out of breath from her rush to get to his office, she wordlessly places a printout of their next assignment in front of him. Picking it up, his smile quickly fades as he scans the terms of the new mission.

"Are they nuts?" He asks aloud, a rhetorical question that he has no answer to. "I have no idea where she is. Besides, there hasn't been any down time from her last mission." He looks back up at his Muse, as if she holds the answer to his problem.

"Can we send The Red Queen instead?" he asks her, desperate to find a way around what is being asked of him.

The Musician slowly shakes her head in response. "I've already asked; they specifically want Queen Bee."

The Doctor pulls out a dossier on the target. He knew that this mission could eventually come, in fact he was surprised that it hadn't come sooner than now. Maybe they were waiting for Queen Bee before they sprung this on him.

"It says here that the mark usually dates tall blonde women. Queen Bee is nothing like that." He rationalizes to himself.

"He also doesn't stay very long with any of them, which is why The Red Queen won't work," the Musician tells him. The Doctor stands and paces his office, tugging at his hair as he does a long-standing bad habit. The Doctor always imagines that he is making room for his brain to grow and have an easier time grasping a particular situation. It never works, but that does not stop him from trying.

Finally, after searching his brain for some sort of answer, and finding none, The Doctor retakes his seat and stares up at his Muse.

"When do they want to start?" he asks.

"They want the initial meeting to take place within the week, and for the job to be complete in nine to twelve months," she relays to him, knowing that he will find this news highly unsettling.

"Less than a year for the entire job? I don't think we've ever taken out a target in less than eighteen months!" he exclaims, allowing his head to fall into his hands. This job just gets worse and worse the more he hears.

"It's a small target, really; she could probably pull it off in less than six months if she needed to," EP reasons. He knows that she is right; a small target like this is much easier to eliminate, but that doesn't mean that it will be any easier, or take and less prep work. If anything, this particular case will take even more prep work that usual, and The Doctor is not sure that a week will suffice.

"I'll start prepping a briefing on the finer points of this particular target," he finally tells her, giving in to the reality of the deadlines set. "Queen Bee is going to kill me for this."

"Do you want me to call her?" The Musician asks. She knows that The Doctor hates calling his team members in early from their R&R time.

"No, I'll do it." He gives her a small smile and she takes it as her cue to leave him alone with the dossier files.

Quietly shifting out of the room, she is partly aware of The Doctor's eyes on her hips as she walks out the door. She gives her walk a little umph before turning and closing the door behind her, sealing The Doctor in with his work.

The Doctor opens the file on the main target, one Elizabeth Sanders, the next Presidential hopeful.

That explains the need to get this done so quickly, he thinks as he thumbs through the file. Inside are photos of Ms. Sanders speaking with leaders of a known religious extremist group who call themselves 'The Burning Path.' Others show her at gatherings for this particular group, and others show snapshots or a certificate showing that she is an ordained minister with The Burning Path. Enclosed as well is a CD marked only with her name and a sticker that reads "Top Secret." He pops the CD into his computer and searches the files.

The CD contains only audio and video files and he clicks the first audio file as he skims over her psychological profile.

"Of course, you know I haven't forgotten." Ms. Sanders' voice comes through his headphones perfectly clear. "It's why I began this campaign in the first place."

"Just remember that as you make your campaign promises," a gruff voice replies. This mystery man must be one of the leaders for the Burning Path. "I don't care what you promise them, as long as you make it into the office."

"I already have my feelers in place. If I do not win the primary, the Democratic candidate will take me on as his Vice President. It won't be as high as we want, but it will be high enough I think."

"Yes, especially if we take care of him shortly after he assumes the office. It will put a delay in our plans, but not enough to cause a major problem. Very good thinking, Elizabeth."

"I am more that capable Caius." She snaps at him. Ah, Casius, we have a name to go by. The Doctor scans the file for anyone names Caius as the recording continues.

"We have gathered more money for the cause and you will have it added to your personal bank account within the week. Use it to purchase more air time for your commercials."

"Of course. Is there anything else?"

"No. Farewell, Elizabeth."

"Until next time, Caius." The recording ends and The Doctor sits back in his chair as he considers what he has just heard. Do any of these other recordings talk about her actual plan? Is this why they want us to take her out? Because they know she is planning 'something,' they just don't know what?

He finds Caius' name in the file and discovers that he is Elizabeth's half brother. So far, the evidence is not too damning and maybe that's the problem. She can fix damage caused by baseless accusations, politicians do it all the time; apparently the big bosses feel that the risk of her downplaying this is too great to just leave it to chance.

He tugs at his hair again before clicking on the next file.

It takes less than an hour to go through the entire file and everything on the CD. He can tell that Ms. Sanders is planning something, but has no more idea what it is now than when he started. A phrase from a recent movie he watched pops into his head, unbidden.

"Let me bring you up to speed on what we know. We know nothing; there, you are now up to speed."

The Doctor smiles briefly at how fitting that line is right now as he grabs for the phone. Opening his contact list, he selects his recipient and lets out a long breath as he waits for someone to answer.

"The Zombie apocalypse had better of started this morning or else I'm hanging up," comes the curt answer through the phone. He had promised her two weeks to relax and recuperate. His broken promise is already being met with hostility.

Better to get it over with quick.

"You've been requested," he says quickly, waiting for the furious answer sure to accompany his serious message.

"Bullshit!" she yells into the phone.

"I'm sorry, Bee, but you're mother is ill and needs you," he tells her, using the code to indicate a new mission.

The only answer is a click and then the dial tone, signaling that she has ended the call. He is not worried though, knowing that she will never turn down a mission, he has every confidence that she will be standing before him this time tomorrow.

He turns to the other dossier, the one with the mark; Ms. Sanders' son. Ms. Sanders decided to keep her maiden name as a sign of feminine strength in the political field and so her son carries a different surname than she does.

The Doctor quickly scans the file and tosses it down on his desk before standing up to go get some more coffee. He takes one last look before he walks away. There, staring up at him is the smiling picture of a young man named Edward Masen, the next man to be seduced, and then killed as collateral damage by Agent BS, the Queen Bee.

**A/N: Thoughts?**

**Remember, I trade teasers for reviews.**

**See you all next Saturday!**


	3. What is real life anyway?

**A/N: Mesmerizeme is the most awesomess beta!**

**I do not own Twilight, but I do have a Team Edward skin on my phone!**

**I had a comment about the code names being a bit overwhelming. The last chapter had a lot because it was an introductory chapter for that. It will get better. If it doesn't. please let me know.**

**On with the show.**

Real life almost feels like a role to her, another role to be played and then discarded once the curtain is lowered for the final time. Agent BS has to struggle to remember what her real name feels like crossing across her own lips.

Bella.

It always takes her a few days to become used to her name after a job, and then soon enough it's either back to Queen Bee or whatever new name she must take on for her next assignment. If she counts all of the time that she has spent as another person, she would realize that she has lived more time as various aliases than she has as herself.

So being herself is a strange concept for her.

"Bella Swan."

She lets the name roll around in her mouth, re-familiarizing herself with it, like she would a long lost friend.

She looks around the nearly private beach and spots some locals a little way off. She lies back in the sand, watches the young men dance around in some sort of ball game, and debates if she wants some company. What she wouldn't give for at least a few days to have a man call her by her actual name, to hold her because of who she really is and not who she pretends to be. She wants at the end of a hard day to be able to fall into the arms of a strong man who wants nothing more than to protect her from whatever is causing her stress.

But that is a fantasy, and she knows that if she is to give into the fantasy that she will never be able to go back to the real world. So, she tucks her fantasy aside and decides to let the cool ocean breeze caress her, the warm sun hold her, and the night time stars watch over her.

She checks the beginnings of a tan on her pale skin, and after applying more sunscreen, rolls on to her stomach. She is drifting in and out when her cell phone rings.

Only six people in the world have that particular phone number, and she has no desire to talk to any of them. Lifting her head and opening one eye she stares at the phone as it rings softly, the vibration causing the sand around it to shift and bounce, making the phone dance to the pre-programmed mamba ringtone. If the person on the other end of the attempted call could see her glare, they would very likely be afraid.

Finally, she grabs the phone and presses the button to answer the call. "The Zombie apocalypse had better of started this morning or else I'm hanging up."

"You've been requested," a man says quickly. Even though she knew that this is what she would hear when she answered the phone, it didn't make actually hearing it any better.

"Bullshit!" she yells into the phone out of frustration. She knows that this is the only angry response that she can give him, but it says enough. Bullshit was her original code name when she first joined the team, as it fit her own initials so well. She quickly made it known that she did not like the name, and used it now to show that she didn't like the current situation any better.

"I'm sorry, Bee, but you're mother is ill and needs you," he tells her, using the code to indicate a new mission. Knowing that he is not expecting an answer, that he doesn t really need one, she disconnects the call.

She has never turned down a mission, no matter what the job was, and she wasn't about to start now.

Gathering her things, she takes one more longing look over at the carefree locals on the far side of the beach before she heads back inside to pack her things.

-E-L-L-

When she arrives at the small island airstrip, she passes some money to the cab driver and without preamble, heads over to the small private airplane sitting on the tarmac. No words are exchanged as she climbs inside and takes a seat on one of the plush leather chairs.

"This job must be important if he sent the private jet." She grumbles as she opens her book and delves back into the 1600s English countryside.

The pilot announces that the flight will take nearly 10 hours and reminds his passenger of the small bedroom and accompanying bathroom in the back of the plane. She decides to take the pilot's advice and closes her book before making her way to the small bedroom. She hates the quiet; it always brings her back to that night, the night that shaped her life from then on, the reason that The Doctor can use her mother as a code for a mission. She lies across the bed and stares at the ceiling as memories of long past play before her eyes.

_-10 Years Earlier-_

_"You stupid bitch!" The woman yells at the top of her lungs, her voice becoming hoarse from the effort. Her hair is falling out from her carefully sculpted ponytail and her eyes rage with fury. In short, Heidi Swan is a very pissed off woman when things don't go her way, and right now, they are not going her way at all. In fact, they are the exact opposite of her way._

_"Untie me or you'll be sorry!" Heidi yells again, but her pleas fall on deaf ears. Not that her step-daughter Bella is deaf by any means, she can hear very well, a fact that has lead to Heidi's current situation._

_After years of abuse from her stepmother, Bella has finally found out the last piece of information, the one thing that makes Heidi worthy of death. Heidi had killed her family. She had killed Bella's mother, her own parents, and her grandparents as well as setting Bella's father on a path to suicide, leaving little Bella alone with only Heidi to care for her._

_Bella's various broken bones, bruises and hospital stays over the years were a testament to Heidi's caring ways._

_"You're dead when I get out of here!" Heidi is screaming now, trying in vain to hold on to whatever control she thinks she has._

_Bella slowly makes her way to her stepmother, her eyes never leaving Heidi's wild face. She slowly lifts the scalpel from the stand next to where Heidi lays, her body tied to a small cot. With calm precision and determination, Bella begins to trace Heidi's blood vessels with the scalpel, concentrating on the blood that is pooling on the skin rather than the screams coming from the woman before her. Bella seems engrossed with the act, a look of curiousness on her face. Bella knew before she had set her plan in motion that she would have to distance herself from the actual act if she was going to be successful. So she watches the scalpel, which causes Heidi's body to shed crimson tears from every cut, causing her body to weep for those whose lives she had ended._

_After a while, the screams lower to whimpers, the small amount of movement the bindings allow slow to a stop. Soon, there is more blood out of Heidi's body than there is in, and Bella's mission is complete. She steps back and wipes her hands on a nearby rag, never taking her eyes off Heidi's now silent body._

_She reaches over and picks up her cell phone, calling the number for the police station._

_"Don't do that."_

_Bella spins around dropping the phone on the floor causing the battery door to break off; the noise seems much louder to her ears than it should._

_The man now standing before Bella holds no fear in his eyes, yet his hands are held out in surrender showing that he is not there to cause her harm. He is an older man, with short blonde hair and a statuesque build._

_"She deserved it," Bella tells him. She is not defending her actions, just stating a fact._

_"I am sure that she did," the man answers her. Seeing she is not going to add any more to the conversation, he continues. "There are a lot of people that deserve it. Death, I mean."_

_Bella simply nods her head in agreement._

_"I run an operation that does just that. We rid the world of people like your stepmother here that would otherwise never see justice for their actions."_

_"So, you're a group of assassins," Bella states, no hint of a question in her voice, nor of accusation. She simply states the fact that has been presented._

_"Simply put, yes," he replies. "I could use another operative if you are interested."_

_This takes Bella by surprise and her eyes widen as she attempts to make sense of the situation. "You're offering me a job?"_

_"Yes, if you would like. I assume your plan was to turn yourself in?" He motions toward the phone as he speaks._

_Bella nods slowly._

_"Think of this as an alternative if you will."_

_"But what about her?" Bella asks nodding her head in Heidi's direction._

_"Let me worry about that," he tells her as he motions for Bella to follow him out of the house._

-Present Day-

"He never did tell me what he did with the body." She realizes as she lets go of the waking world, slipping into a dreamless sleep for the remainder of the flight.

**A/N: Massive thanks to my fic wifey for letting me steal Heidi for a bit and have my wicked way with her. ;)**

**Go read Meet Secretly,Await Patiently,Love Eternally by ZenOne to see why Heidi totally deserved that. Story ID: 6118828**

**Reviews = Teasers**

**See you all next week!**


	4. Getting the scoop

A/N: I am sooo sorry that this is a week late! The internet was down all last weekend, and the days this past week have not been my own at all!

Anyway, enough about my crazy life, on with the story.

Twilight is not mine, *pout*

Without hesitation, Bee opens the main door of the Central Infrastructure Authority offices. The fantasy that some would call the 'real' world faded away on the flight here. Now it is all business; no more relaxation, no more living for herself; her job asks for everything from her, and she is here to deliver just that.

Little changes here, so Bee takes little notice in what is around her and walks right past the front reception area. She is nearly a dozen paces past the desk before her brain recognizes a definite difference. Refusing to believe what she thinks she saw, she walks backward, retracing her steps until she is parallel with the front desk. She trains her eyes on the woman sitting behind the desk filing her nails. The woman is clearly tall, with wavy blonde hair falling around her shoulders, a single white rose peeking out from above her ear, her ice blue eyes scream boredom as she lifts her hand to study the job she has done on her fingernails.

"What the hell are you doing at the reception desk?" Bee asks in complete confusion.

"Apparently the normal girl is out sick today." The blonde-haired woman finally raises her eyes to look at Bee. "Normally The Musician would have handled this, but she and The Doctor have been scrambling around this place like they're getting ready for World War III." She rolls her eyes at the notion. "So I figured I'd take advantage of a little down time today and fill in."

"Why is your rose white? I thought the Red Queen in the book was all about the red roses?" Bee asks, a smile playing across her face.

"The florist was all out, so why don t you be a good little agent and get me some red paint?" Agent RH, otherwise known as The Red Queen replies.

Bee throws her head back in laughter, joined quickly by The Red Queen. The laughter dies down and Bee walks around to the back of the desk to give her friend a hug in greeting.

"What are you doing back already anyway?" The Red Queen asks. Bee's answer is cut short and she is engulfed in a vice constructed of two large arms, her name being shouted dangerously close to her ear.

"Queen Bee! What are you doing back?" the vice asks her.

"Put me down and I'll tell you, you big oaf!" Bee yells to her captor. Soon Bee's feet are on the ground once again and she turns to see Agent EM, or The Magnet, standing next to The Red Queen.

The Magnet is a large man, tall and muscular; he tells people that his code name is because of his magnetic personality. It seems that he is much more of a magnet for trouble than people, not that anyone here would tell him that.

"So?" The Red Queen prompts.

"I'm not exactly sure. The Doctor called me and said that I was 'requested', whatever that means, and that that I needed to come back right away."

"It must be something big," The Magnet tells them. "I can't remember anyone ever being called off R&R before. The Doctor usually does everything in his power to let us have our down time."

"That's what worries me." Bee grumbles. "I'd better get back there; the sooner I can find out what is going on, the better."

The pair nod in agreement and Bee heads off to The Doctor's office.

-E-L-L-

The Doctor is sitting at his desk, which is covered in papers and open files. The Musician sits across from him, furiously typing away at her laptop. They both stop and look up as the door opens, signaling Bee's entrance.

"Bee!" The Doctor greets, standing up from his seat.

"Cut the BS Doc, and I don't mean my initials. What the hell is so important that I can't have my fun in the sun?"

The smile on his face falters slightly but does not fall completely as he takes his seat.

"I can finish this in my office," The Musician states as she closes her laptop and stands, gathering her things. She shares a smile with The Doctor before she turns to leave the room. Bee shakes her head, wondering when those two will finally admit that they are together and stop all of the hiding. Not that they are good at hiding it anyway.

Bee takes the recently vacated seat and crosses her arms over her chest. Both she and The Doctor know that she will do whatever job she is assigned, but that doesn't mean that she will make it easy on him. Bee raises her eyebrows and angles her head, silently demanding an answer to her earlier question.

"We have a short fused assignment. The target is a political figure, the mark is her son." The Doctor leans back in his chair as he speaks. He intentionally gives her only the bare amount of information, knowing that is the best way to draw her interest; and her ire if he is not careful.

"Political, huh? Figures. So how short is the fuse?" Bee asks.

"One year."

Bee sits up tall in her seat, her eyebrows disappearing under her side swept bangs, her eyes wide and alert.

"A year? It can't be done Doc, there's no way I can get in close enough in a year." The Doctor sighs, recalling that he had the same reaction only a short time earlier when he heard the news.

"We will have to make due, Bee. This means a lot more planning on the front end." Bee nods her head as he speaks, already calculating in her mind how much time she will need to plan effectively.

"I'll need at least a couple of weeks to set everything up, and even that is pushing it. When do they want the meet to happen?" Bee watches as The Doctor shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She narrows her eyes at him and he lowers his under her intense gaze, he knows that she will not like the answer.

"One week." His response is barely a whisper, but Bee hears it perfectly clear.

Bee closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "One week is not enough time," she states flatly, as if this simple fact will solve everything.

"The Teacher and The Jailer have already started working on the set-up," he tells her.

"One week and a day is not enough time," she amends.

"It will have to be. It's all we have."

Bee sighs. It WILL have to do, there is no other option. This assignment must be important if everything is so short. She realizes why she was requested for this particular job. The Red Queen takes weeks to get herself in the right headspace for a mission.

She reaches out her hand and The Doctor passes her the dossier on the mark. She skims through it and stops when a particular fact catches her eye.

"It says hear that he likes tall blonds with big tits." She looks back up at The Doctor, handing him back the file. "I can go back to blonde, but I can't grow taller or make the girls bigger in just a week. There's not a surgeon alive that is that good."

"The agency seems to think that by sending in someone different from his regular 'fare,' so to speak, will have him off his game and allow you to get in closer in less time," he says, passing her another dossier, this time on the target. Bee skims over it as well before handing it back.

"So she's a religious fanatic hell bent on terrorism in the name of purity and he's a rebellious playboy living off his mom's money." She sums up the pair, showing The Doctor that she understands.

"Rebellious playboy or not, he is just as dedicated to attending service every week as his mother. He is going to be hard to crack." He warns her.

Bee laughs at his warning. "Show me a mark that's not hard to crack, Doc." The Doctor joins in her laughter, as much as she might complain about the circumstances, she has never backed down from an assignment.

"I'll give you that one, Bee. Now how do you see the initial meet going down?" he asks her, getting them back on track.

"Well he's a party boy, but he's also in college. I was thinking the aloft pretty girl that doesn't fall for his charms. We should tail him for a bit and see what his routine is; if he has a particular table at his favorite coffee shop, or a favorite spot at the library when he studies; something that I can take from him to send him off his game. Then when he tries to charm me into moving, I flat out ignore him. And blam! Instant attraction." She picks the dossier back up and looks at his picture. "Never fails with the playboys."

The Doctor grimaces slightly. "I think we should have a plan B this time. Something about this whole thing doesn't feel right."

"It never does, Doc," she tells him absentmindedly, losing herself for a moment in the mark's bright green eyes. "It never does."

A/N: Think Bella's plan will work?

Thank you all for reading!

Reviews = Teasers 


	5. Basement's come standard with whacky

**A/N: Warning: This chapter is un-beta'd, so any mistakes are exclusively mine. I just wanted to get this out.**

**Thank you so much for everyone that is still with me.**

**Twilight is not mine. :(**

"I think that's about all we can do right now Bee." The Doctor said, standing up and stretching his back. They had been pouring over tapes and files for nearly four hours straight. "I'll have Muse send out the word that you'll do the job."

Bee stands and nods her head lazily before stretching her neck out, the popping sound of her bones slipping into place echoing loudly in the room. "I'll go check out what fun stuff Teach has for me this time."

As she heads toward the door, The Doctor calls back out to her.

"Don't forget the dossier on the mark!" Bee turns to see the file in his outstretched hand. Taking the file, she tucks it under her arm as she makes her way out of the office.

"What is it about basements?" Bee thinks to herself as the elevator groans to like. "Do they come standard with whacky genius people or what? Q, Alfred, Abby, Dexter, Buffalo Bill; they all did their best work in a basement!"

The ding of the elevator breaks Bee from her inner musings and she looks up as the doors open.

"Holy Shit Teach!"

Bee jumps back so hard her head hits the back wall of the elevator. The doors begin to close but stop when a short woman steps in their way and grabs Bee by the hand, pulling her out.

The small woman, known simply as Teach, is bouncing on her toes in excitement, but that is normal for her. What is not normal, are the odd goggle looking things over her eyes, the light blue goo covering her head and dripping down on her shoulders, and the violently severed mannequin head in her hand.

"Do I want to know what is going on down here?" Bee asks Teach.

Teach cocks her head in confusion and shakes it slightly, indicating that she has no idea what Bee is talking about. Bee motions her hands to indicate Teach's current state and she finally seems to get it.

"Ohh!" Teach utters as she pulls off the goggles, causing blue goo to fling out in Bee's direction. Teach raises her hands up to say something when she notices the mannequin head still in her hand. With a startled look she tosses the head off to the side where it lands with a loud crash, followed by the screech of a cat.

Teach smiles nervously, looking everywhere except Bee as she waits for the awkward moment to pass. After a moment she looks back at Bee and her eyes light up as she grabs her hand and starts pulling her further in.

"So, I've got all of your stuff ready to go." Teach announces as they approach a large table. Pages upon pages of documents are spread about along with a few other odds and ends. Teach grabs for a nearby paper and presents it to Bee.

"Your name is Marie Cullen, you're 23, you work at a quiet little book store, rent the apartment upstairs, and have a conservative but cute wardrobe." She takes a small box off the table and opens it to reveal a small ring with a large white opal stone. "This," Teach says pulling the ring out of the box, "is bugged so we can hear what is happening and being in help if you need it. Of course the story is that it was your grandmother's ring."

Bee holds up the ring and looks at it before slipping it onto her ring finger. "It's a little big Teach." She chuckles.

"That's cause it's on the wrong finger silly!" Teach takes the ring and slides it on Bee's first finger where it is a perfect fit.

"So what else you got?" Bee asks, looking again at the documents spread before her. She reaches out and plucks a set of keys from next to where the ring box was and twirls them around on her finger. "I get a nice ride right?"

Teach looks down for a moment and bites her lip as she tries to figure out how to phrase her answer. "Define 'nice'."

"Something made in the last year or so that has more that 150 horsepower. Silver, black or cherry red would also be preferable." Bee trails off as she realizes that Teach is not looking at her at all. "Come on Teach! I thought I was gonna get a good one this time."

"It's vintage!" Teach says, trying to make Bee see the bright side.

"Vintage?" Bee repeats. She sighs and rubs her temples for a moment. "All right, let's see it."

The two women walk around the table and through another door where a large cover has been draped over a massive form.

"I got an SUV?" Bee asks.

"Think a little older."

"A Jeep?"

"Not quite as cool."

"I'm not gonna like this am I?"

"Probably not, but hey, It's got character!"

Teach reaches out and pulls the cover away to reveal an old partly rusted red truck.

"It's red!" Teach points out.

"That thing has to be at least 50 years old!"

"It's what goes with the cover story." The women turn to see The Doctor standing behind them. "Bee, you can't play the part of the girl at the bookstore, with out playing the part completely. He visits this bookstore often, you have to be seen in a vehicle that goes with that."

"I'd rather not have a car then." Bee grumbles.

The Doctor just sighs and turns to leave.

"Come on Bee," Teach says, "I've still got to show you your wardrobe."

"This is going to be a long week." Bee says as she follows Teach out of the room.

-E-L-L-

Edward Masen walks outside and into the morning sun. He lifts his head up and closing his eyes takes a deep breath, a smile playing on his face. He drowns out the chatter of the other church goers around him as he enjoys the warmth of the day and the fresh breeze that blows across his face.

His moment in interrupted as a hand gently grasps his upper arm. He looks over to his side and sees that his mother, Elizabeth, is ready to go. Smiling he offers his arm and escorts her to the towne car waiting for them.

They settle inside and the driver pulls away from the curb, waiting to take them home. Elizabeth scoots around uncomfortably in her seat until finally she reaches down and pulls out a pair of woman's panties from in between the car seats. Frowning she chastises her son. "Really Edward! At least have the decency to not leave traces of your conquests in the car."

Edward ducks his head shyly, a coy smile playing on his lips as he takes the panties from his mother's hands. "I'm sorry mother, I will try to remember next time."

"Did you use protection?"

"Of course I did!" He scoffs. "The last thing I need is a little me running around."

"At least not until you are with a proper girl."

"Of course."

Elizabeth smiles at him and pulls him to her, pressing the side of his head to her bosom. "I can't stay mad at you sweetheart."

**A/N: So life has been throwing me for a loop and I'm getting kinda dizzy. A promotion at work that means longer hours, more stress and not a penny more for my efforts. So in any case, to be fair and not leave everyone hanging, I have to change my posting schedule to every other Saturday.**

**Reviews get a teaser as soon as it's written.**

**See you in two weeks!**


	6. Stakeouts come standard with coffee

**A/N: So my two weeks turned into two months of barely even being by my computer. I typed of this up during breaks at work. For amyone still reading this, thank you for sticking with it. I am not going to promise when the next update will be, but I will do my absolute best for it to not be two months agian. This is short and totally un-beta'd because I wanted to get it out as soon as possible. Happy Holidays everyone!**

**I don't own Twilight or the characters, but I do have a Team Edward skin on my iPhone. LOL**

There is nothing The Warden hates more that inconsistency, and the mark fit that description perfectly. In the past two weeks, there has been no rhyme or reason to Edward Masen's schedule. Most people woke up at a certain time every day, took the same route to work, or drank at the same coffee shop; obviously Edward Masen was not most people.

He woke up at different times every day; one day it was 5am, the next it could be 11, once it was not until 2pm. He doesn't have a job that Warden could find, and while there were three different coffee shops within a half mile radius of his home, Edward shows no preference to what time or which shop to visit. The only thing that Warden can be sure of is that Edward Mason has slept with every barista at each of the coffee shops. Beyond that, the only thing that can be counted on is his ability to not be counted on.

Warden sips his coffee as he watches Edward walk down the street to who knows where. How the hell were they going to set up a meet when they had no idea of where he was going to be, or what he was going to do? He briefly wonders if Bee would be opposed to taking a job as a barista. Waiting another few minutes, he lets his mark get almost out of sight before he tosses his paper cup in the back seat and exits the car. Checking his watch and noting the time, not that it mattered when the mark had absolutely no discernable schedule, Warden begins to follow Edward Masen.

Unlike any other day, Edward Masen does not simply stroll down the street; today, Warden noticed, he walks with a purpose, like he is on his way to see someone. Finally, Warden thought to himself, something that makes sense. He watches the man bob and weave in and out of the people around him, seeming determined to get to his destination, and soon. Warden struggles to keep up, it is midday and the amount of people out on thier lunch breaks is making it difficult to keep his mark in sight. Luckily Edward Cullen has an unusual hair color that stands out among others. On a female, Warden would call the color copper, or a heavy auburn, or even a light burgundy; but on a male, Warden would simply describe it as dark red.

After eight blocks, and after no less than three instances where Warden was sure he had lost the mark, Edward enters a tall office building. Once Edward is inside, Warden picks up his speed, no longer worrying about calling attention to himself and quickly arrives at the building. Stepping inside, there is a small foyer area with five doors, four open to elevators and one leading to a staircase, along the far wall are two arm chairs and a large directory listing.

Glancing up at the elevator displays, two show that they have gone to the 12th floor, one to the 8th and one is on its way back down. Warden snaps a photo of the directory listing so he can look at it later and steps back outside. Noticing a diner across and slightly down the street, he heads over to wait for Edward to come back out. I'm never going to get to sleep with all this coffee I've been drinking, he thinks to himself as he opens the diner door.

-ELL-

_How do you feel about taking a job as a barista? - W_

Bee stares at the odd text message she received from Warden nearly an hour ago. She was hoping to meet this guy over coffee, not make it for him. She sighs as she replies to him knowing she doesn't have the time to be picky about something as simple as a cover job.

_Please tell me it's not Starbucks! Does he have a thing for baristas or something? - B_

_No, a local coffee shop will do. He makes his rounds. - W_

She is about to respond when Warden follows up with another text. _I'm guessing it's due to the fact they have to be up early, no awkward morning after if they have to leave before he wakes up. - W_

_Well, bring me home an application and we'll get started. - B_

_I'll pull his credit card and see which one is next on his circuit. I'm hoping he'll go for the fresh meat. - W_

_And here I thought I was above being called fish bait. - B_

_Haha, you'll always be fish bait darling, poison fish bait. - W_

Bee erases the conversation before she closes her phone.

"Hey Doc!" she yells out.

"Yes Bee?"

"How much do you know about making coffee?"

-ELL-

Edward Masen steps through the glass doors into the afternoon sun. Warden watches as he glances left and then right, almost as if he knows he's being watched. Fearing he might have been made, Warden keeps his eyes on his paper, purposely ignoring the man across the street. When he looks up again, Edward is gone. Calling the waitress to bring his check, Warder gathers his things to take them back to HQ. He needs time to analyze the data before he can get Bee setup with a firm plan. As he pays the check, he asks for an application, nothing like being prepared.

**A/N: I don't have a teaser to give you, but I am posting a story that's been mostly done on my computer for a while as my Christmas present to you all. It's not a Christmas story, but it's got a happy ending!**


	7. Hook, line and tires?

**A/N: What's this? An update? Well at any rate, it's sooner than the 2 months it took last time. I actually have the next two weeks off from work, unfortunatley I will probibly be blind for most of it. We drove 18 hours yesterday to get to Germany so I can get PRK surgery on my eyes. Whomever thought it was a good idea to shoot lasers at your eyes to make you see better was a pure wacko! But apparently it works so I guess I'll go with it. But enough craziness about me, on with the show.**

**Who wants to meet Edward?**

**I don't own Twilight. :(**

"Not again!" Marie Cullen exclaims as her third attempt at making the cafe's "world famous" White Chocolate Raspberry Mocha fails for the third time. She hears a chuckle from behind her and does not need to turn around to know who is trying their hardest to not break out in a full out laugh. "Please tell me I am not the first person to have this hard of a time making this drink."

Angela Webber, Marie's barista trainer, allows herself one more chuckle before going to help her new friend.

"You are definitely not the first and you certainly will not be the last." Angela tells Marie as she tosses out the ruined drink. "It took me a few months of constant practice before I could get it down. Don't worry Marie, you'll get it eventually."

Grabbing a fresh cup and other ingredients Angela smiles up at Marie, "Let me show you again, okay?"

It has been three days since Bee applied for and got the job at "Joe's Coffee Shop". Since then she has done her best to keep her nerves calm, she has never had to wait for a mark before and the uncertainty of it all is making her anxious. In the three days that she has worked in the small but popular shop, Edward Masen has hit up no less than five coffee shops; meeting up with a different girl "on break" each time.

Determined to not let her mark get the better of her before they even meet, Bee straightens her "Marie" name tag and goes back to trying to learn this nearly impossible drink. Of course with the universe being fundamentally screwed up, and the law of averages against her, Edward Masen chooses that exact moment to open the door, ringing the tiny bell that rests above.

Edward Masen knows he is good looking; in fact he has used this obvious fact more than a few times to get his way. So seeing the newest barista at one of his favorite coffee shops, not that he would admit that to anyone, staring at him in awe and wonder, he was not at all put off or embarrassed. 'This will be easy.' he thinks to himself as he strolls up to the counter.

"Ciao bella." He greets the girl, or Marie as her name tag states, as he reaches for her hand to give it a gentle kiss. He dips his head low as he slowly massages the back of her hand with his lips. He can taste a hint of the coffee she has been working with mixed slightly with raspberry and chocolate. He releases her hand and raises his eyes to hers to tease her about the difficult drink when he sees the look of near panic on her face.

Edward has seen his fair share of expressions on a woman's face in reaction to meeting his, from flushed, to surprised, to lusty, to excited; but he has never experiences fear, until now. He opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it.

"What did you just say?" She whispers so quietly if the shop had even one other customer, he may not have heard it.

"I said ciao bella, it means hello beautiful in Italian." Almost immediately Marie's face changes from pale to bright red and Edward wonders if she will faint from the severe change in blood flow.

"Oh, thank you." Marie tells him as she straightens her apron and pulls herself together. "Would you care to look at the menu or do you already know what you would like?"

This is the point where Edward would normally tell the girl that he wants her, after his coffee fix of course; but something tells him that if he wants this one, he may have to work at it for a bit.

He smiles to himself, it's not like he doesn't have the time. Deciding not to overwhelm the girl, he keeps his order simple and asks for a tall peppermint mocha. Marie quickly makes his drink and rings up his total. His drink in hand, Edward walks over to one of the large plush couches and sits down, making a small show of enjoying that first sip of his drink.

Edward is so lost in trying to seduce the girl through his coffee cup that he is caught completely off guard when he hears Marie's voice again.

"Thanks again for covering for me Angela." Edward's head pops up as he sees his newest desire gathering her things to go home.

"Not a problem Marie, good luck on your test tomorrow." Marie waves her thanks to Angela and heads out the door. Determined to not let his prey escape him, Edward drains his cup and takes off after her.

-ELL-

Edward was planning on chasing down the beautiful girl, of sweet talking her into getting dinner tonight, and of having her scream his name before the stroke of midnight. But even the greatest plans are no match for the unexpected. Only a few steps into the parking lot puts Edward nearly on top of a distraught Marie searching through her truck, a very flat tire gracing the front left of her car.

"Need a hand?" He asks her smiling brightly at his luck. The damsel in distress routine works even better than a fancy dinner, even better if he combines the two. Marie pokes her head up from the trunk, a jack in one hand and a tire iron in the other. Edward can't help but get aroused at the sight.

"No, I got it!" Marie tells him waving the tire iron, right before clunking herself in the head with it. "Ow!"

Edward rushes to her side and pulls her in his arms while taking the tire iron from her hand and placing it on the ground. He searches her face to make sure she is okay before he smiles and not so subtly holds back a chuckle.

"Yeah, not my best moment." Marie tells him as she pulls away. Edward wants none of that though; he was enjoying having her small body in his arms. He pulls her back to him and lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"How about this, I'll call me mechanic to come and get your car and fix the tire. In the meantime I can give you a ride home so you don't miss out on your study time." Edward tells her, while mentally adding, 'And I can convince you to let me study your pretty little body.'

"I couldn't let you do that, I don't even know your name." She tells him, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

"Edward Masen, pleased to meet you!" Edward holds his hand out for her to shake in the customary fashion. She takes his offered hand and replies with her own name, followed by a gasp as he turns her hand in his and gently kisses it, just like he did in the coffee shop. "There, now that we know each other's name, you can let me help you."

Marie rolls her eyes and Edward knows that he has won her over. He holds his finger up indicating that he needs a moment as he pulls out his phone and calls his mechanic, telling him where to find Marie's car and making arrangements for payment. When he hangs up the phone he notices Marie looking a little pensive.

"What's wrong bella?"

"You have to let me pay you back. Dinner would be one thing, but having my car towed and fixed is another thing all together."

Edward can't help but smile at her words. "So you wouldn't mind letting me take you out to dinner?"

Marie looks Edward up and down, making a show of assessing him. "I guess I could do worse." She offers him a wink and a smile and he returns the smile with one of his own. "So, where's your car?"

He points to a shiny silver Volvo parked nearby. He smoothly walks over to the front passenger side and opens the door for her. "After you." He says with a wave of his hand. Marie gets in the car, tells Edward where her apartment is and he takes off down the road.

The conversation flows easily, simple small talk, not delving into anything too deep. As they turn down her street Marie pulls her keys from her purse and Edward places his hand on her thigh. They pull into the building parking garage and slide into the nearest parking slot.

"Would you like to come up for a drink?" She asks him, smiling seductively and nibbling on the side of her lower lip.

"I would love to." He replies, looking directly into her eyes as he speaks.

They exit the car and continue exchanging sly glances and smiles as they make their way to her apartment. They are both still laughing as Marie goes to put her key in the door. But instead of slipping into the slot like normal, the door moves open.

"What the hell?" Marie questions as she moves to open the door wider and make sure nothing is taken. Edward gently pushes her out of the way so he can go in first. He takes two steps into the door before he stops.

"Someone has been in here." Edward says as Marie moves around him to survey the damage. The entire place had been ransacked and nothing left undisturbed. "Do you know what they were after?"

She shakes her head, confusion marring her face. "No, the highest value thing I have in here are my text books and they are over there." She says pointing at a pushed over pile of books. "Do you think they will come back?"

"Whoever did this is gone now, but you can't stay here tonight."

"I just moved here, I don't know anyone around here." Marie tells him with tears in her eyes.

"You know me." He tells her as he takes her in his arms and leads her back out the door.

**A/N: As soon as my eyes are better I will start working on the next chapter and hopefully have it up soon.**


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